THE TWELVE BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN ON THE INSTITUTES OF THE COENOBIA AND THE
REMEDIES FOR THE EIGHT PRINCIPAL FAULTS, BOOK V
BOOK V.
OF THE SPIRIT OF GLUTTONY.
CHAPTER I.
The transition from the Institutes of the monks to the struggle against the
eight principal faults.
This fifth book of ours is now by the help of God to be produced. For
after the four books which have been composed on the customs of the monasteries, we
now propose, being strengthened by God through your prayers, to approach the
struggle against the eight principal faults, i.e. first, Gluttony or the
pleasures of the palate; secondly, Fornication; thirdly, Covetousness, which means
Avarice, or, as it may more properly be called, the love of money, fourthly,
Anger; fifthly, Dejection; sixthly, "Accidie,''(4) which is heaviness or weariness
of heart; seventhly, <greek>kenodoxxa</greek> which means foolish or vain glory;
eighthly, pride. And on entering upon this difficult task we need your
prayers, O most blessed Pope Castor, more than ever; that we may be enabled in the
first place worthily to investigate the nature of these in all points however
trifling or hidden or obscure: and next to explain with sufficient clearness the
causes of them and thirdly to bring forward fitly the cures and remedies for them.
CHAPTER II.
How the occasions of these faults, being found in everybody, are ignored by
everybody; and how we need the Lord's help to make them plain.
AND of these passions as the occasions are recognized by everybody as soon
as they are laid open by the teaching of the elders, so before they are
revealed, although we are all overcome by them, and they exist in every one, yet
nobody knows of them. But we trust that we shall be able in some measure to explain
them, if by your prayers that word of the Lord, which was announced by Isaiah,
may apply to us also--"I will go before thee, and bring low the mighty ones of
the land, I will break the gates of brass, and cut asunder the iron bars, and
I will open to thee concealed treasures and hidden secrets"(1)--so that the
word of the Lord may go before us also, and first may bring low the mighty ones of
our land, i.e. these same evil passions which we are desirous to overcome, and
which claim for themselves dominion and a most horrible tyranny in our mortal
body; and may make them yield to our investigation and explanation, and thus
breaking the gates of our ignorance, and cutting asunder the bars of vices which
shut us out from true knowledge, may lead to the hidden things of our secrets,
and reveal to us who have been illuminated, according to the Apostle's word,
"the hidden things of darkness, and may make manifest the counsels of the
hearts,"(2) that thus penetrating with pure eyes of the mind to the foul darkness of
vices, we may be able to disclose them and drag them forth to light; and may
succeed in explaining their occasions and natures to those who are either free
from them, or are still tied and bound by them, and so passing as the prophet
says,(3) through the fire of vices which terribly inflame our minds, we may be
able forthwith to pass also through the water of virtues which extinguish them
unharmed, and being bedewed (as it were) with spiritual remedies may be found
worthy to be brought in purity of heart to the consolations of perfection.
CHAPTER III.
How our first struggle must be against the spirit of gluttony, i.e. the
pleasures of the palate.
AND SO the first conflict we must enter upon is that against gluttony,
which we have explained as the pleasures of the palate: and in the first place as
we are going to speak of the system of fasts, and the quality of food, we must
again recur to the traditions and customs of the Egyptians, as everybody knows
that they contain a more advanced discipline in the matter of self-control, and
a perfect method of discrimination.
CHAPTER IV.
The testimony of Abbot Antony in which he teaches that each virtue ought to be
sought for from him who professes it in a special degree.
For it is an ancient and excellent saying of the blessed Antony(4) that
when a monk is endeavouring after the plan of the monastic life to reach the
heights of a more advanced perfection, and, having learned the consideration of
discretion, is able now to stand in his own judgment, and to arrive at the very
summit of the anchorite's life, he ought by no means to seek for all kinds of
virtues from one man however excellent. For one is adorned with flowers of
knowledge, another is more strongly fortified with methods of discretion, another is
established in the dignity of patience, another excels in the virtue of
humility, another in that of continence, another is decked with the grace of
simplicity. This one excels all others in magnanimity, that one in pity, another in
vigils, another in silence, another in earnestness of work. And therefore the monk
who desires to gather spiritual honey, ought like a most careful bee, to suck
out virtue from those who specially possess it, and should diligently store it
up in the vessel of his own breast: nor should he investigate what any one is
lacking in, but only regard and gather whatever virtue he has. For if we want to
gain all virtues from some one person, we shall with great difficulty or
perhaps never at all find suitable examples for us to imitate. For though we do not
as yet see that even Christ is made "all things in all," as the Apostle says;(1)
still in this way we can find Him bit by bit in all. For it is said of Him,
"Who was made of God to you wisdom and righteousness and sanctification and
redemption."(2) While then in one there is found wisdom, in another righteousness,
in another sanctification, in another kindness, in another chastity, in another
humility, in another patience, Christ is at the present time divided, member by
member, among all of the saints. But when all come together into the unity of
the faith and virtue, He is formed into the "perfect man,"(3) completing the
fulness of His body, in the joints and properties of all His members. Until then
that time arrives when God will be "all in all," for the present God can in the
way of which we have spoken be "in all," through particular virtues, although
He is not yet "all in all" through the fulness of them. For although our
religion has but one end and aim, yet there are different ways by which we approach
God, as will be more fully shown in the Conferences of the Elders.(4) And so we
must seek a model of discretion and continence more particularly from those
from whom we see that those virtues flow forth more abundantly through the grace
of the Holy Spirit; not that any one can alone acquire those things which are
divided among many, but in order that in those good qualities of which we are
capable we may advance towards the imitation of those who especially have acquired
them.
CHAPTER V.
That one and the same rule of fasting cannot be observed by everybody.
AND so on the manner of fasting a uniform rule cannot easily be observed,
because everybody has not the same strength; nor is it like the rest of the
virtues, acquired by steadfastness of mind alone. And therefore, because it does
not depend only on mental firmness, since it has to do with the possibilities of
the body, we have received this explanation concerning it which has been
handed down to us, viz.: that there is a difference of time, manner, and quality of
the refreshment in proportion to the difference of condition of the body, the
age, and sex: but that there is one and the same rule of restraint to everybody
as regards continence of mind, and the virtue of the spirit. For it is
impossible for every one to prolong his fast for a week, or to postpone taking
refreshment during a two or three days' abstinence. By many people also who are worn
out with sickness and especially with old age, a fast even up to sunset cannot be
endured without suffering. The sickly food of moistened beans does not agree
with everybody: nor does a sparing diet of fresh vegetables suit all, nor is a
scanty meal of dry bread permitted to all alike. One man does not feel satisfied
with two pounds, for another a meal of one pound, or six ounces, is too much;
but there is one aim and object of continence in the case of all of these,
viz.: that no one may be overburdened beyond the measure of his appetite, by
gluttony. For it is not only the quality, but also the quantity of food taken which
dulls the keenness of the mind, and when the soul as well as the flesh is
surfeited, kindles the baneful and fiery incentive to vice.
CHAPTER VI.
That the mind is not intoxicated by wine alone.
THE belly when filled with all kinds of food gives birth to seeds of
wantonness, nor can the mind, when choked with the weight of food, keep the guidance
and government of the thoughts. For not only is drunkenness with wine wont to
intoxicate the mind, but excess of all kinds of food makes it weak and
uncertain, and robs it of all its power of pure and clear contemplation. The cause of
the overthrow and wantonness of Sodom was not drunkenness through wine, but
fulness of bread. Hear the Lord rebuking Jerusalem through the prophet. "For how
did thy sister Sodom sin, except in that she ate her bread in fulness and
abundance?"(5) And because through fulness of bread they were inflamed with
uncontrollable lust of the flesh, they were burnt up by the judgment of God with fire
and brimstone from heaven. But if excess of bread alone drove them to such a
headlong downfall into sin through the vice of satiety, what shall we think of
those who with a vigorous body dare to partake of meat and wine with unbounded
licence, taking not just what their bodily frailty demands, but what the eager
desire of the mind suggests.
CHAPTER VII.
How bodily weakness need not interfere with purity of heart.
BODILY weakness is no hindrance to purity of heart, if only so much food
is taken as the bodily weakness requires, and not what pleasure asks for. It is
easier to find men who altogether abstain from the more fattening kinds of
foods than men who make a moderate use of what is allowed to our necessities; and
men who deny themselves everything out of love of continence than men who taking
food on the plea of weakness preserve the due measure of what is
sufficient.(1) For bodily weakness has its glory of self-restraint, where though food is
permitted to the failing body, a man deprives himself of his refreshment. although
he needs it, and only indulges in just so much food as the strict judgment of
temperance decides to be sufficient for the necessities of life, and not what
the longing appetite asks for. The more delicate foods, as they conduce to
bodily health, so they need not destroy the purity of chastity, if they are taken in
moderation. For whatever strength(2) is gained by partaking of them is used up
in the toil and waste of car. Wherefore as no state of life can be deprived of
the virtue of abstinence, so to none is the crown of perfection denied.
CHAPTER VIII.
How food should be taken with regard to the aim at perfect continence.(3)
AND so it is a very true and most excellent saying of the Fathers that the
right method of fasting and abstinence lies in the measure of moderation and
bodily chastening; and that this is the aim of perfect virtue for all alike,
viz.: that though we are still forced to desire it, yet we should exercise
self-restraint in the matter of the food, which we are obliged to take owing to the
necessity of supporting the body. For even if one is weak in body, he can attain
to a perfect virtue and one equal to that of those who are thoroughly strong
and healthy, if with firmness of mind he keeps a check upon the desires and lusts
which are not due to weakness of the flesh. For the Apostle says: "And take
not care for the flesh in its lusts."(4) He does not forbid care for it in every
respect: but says that care is not to be taken in regard to its desires and
lusts. He cuts away the luxurious fondness for the flesh: he does not exclude the
control necessary for life: he does the former, lest through pampering the
flesh we should be involved in dangerous entanglements of the desires; the latter
lest the body should be injured by our fault and unable to fulfil its spiritual
and necessary duties.
CHAPTER IX.
Of the, measure of the chastisement to be undertaken, and the remedy of
fasting.
THE perfection then of abstinence is not to be gathered from calculations
of time alone, nor only from the quality of the food; but beyond everything
from the judgment of conscience. For each one should impose such a sparing diet on
himself as the battle of his bodily struggle may require. The canonical
observance of fasts is indeed valuable and by all means to be kept. But unless this
is followed by a temperate partaking of food, one will not be able to arrive at
the goal of perfection. For the abstinence of prolonged fasts--where repletion
of body follows--produces weariness for a time rather than purity and chastity.
Perfection of mind indeed depends upon the abstinence of the belly. He has no
lasting purity and chastity, who is not contented always to keep to a
well-balanced and temperate diet. Fasting, although severe, yet if unnecessary
relaxation follows, is rendered useless, and presently leads to the vice of gluttony. A
reasonable supply of food partaken of daily with moderation, is better than a
severe and long fast at intervals. Excessive fasting has been known not only to
undermine the constancy of the mind, but also to weaken the power of prayers
through sheer weariness of body.
CHAPTER X.
That abstinence from food is not of itself sufficient for preservation of
bodily and mental purity.
Is order to preserve the mind and body in a perfect condition abstinence
from food is not alone sufficient: unless the other virtues of the mind as well
are joined to it. And so humility must first be learned by the virtue of
obedience, and grinding toil(1) and bodily exhaustion. The possession of money must
not only be avoided, but the desire for it must be l utterly rooted out. For it
is not enough not to possess it,--a thing which comes to many as a matter of
necessity: but we ought, if by chance it is offered, not even to admit the wish
to have it. The madness of anger should be controlled; the downcast look of
dejection be overcome; vainglory should be despised, the disdainfulness of pride
trampled under foot, and the shifting and wandering thoughts of the mind
restrained by continual recollection of God. And the slippery wanderings of our heart
should be brought back again to the contemplation of God as often as our crafty
enemy, in his endeavour to lead away the mind a captive from this
consideration, creeps into the innermost recesses of the heart.
CHAPTER XI.
That bodily lusts are not extinguished except by the entire rooting out of
vice.
FOR it is an impossibility that the fiery motions of the body can be
extinguished, before the incentives of the other chief vices are utterly rooted out:
concerning which we will speak in their proper place, if God permits,
separately, in different books. But now we have to deal with Gluttony, that is the
desire of the palate, against which our first battle is. He then will never be able
to check the motions of a burning lust, who cannot restrain the desires of the
appetite. The chastity of the inner man is shown by the perfection of this
virtue. For you will never feel sure that he can strive against the opposition of
a stronger enemy, whom you have seen overcome by weaker ones in a higher
conflict. For of all virtues the nature is but one and the same, although they appear
to be divided into many different kinds and names: just as there is but one
substance of gold, although it may seem to be distributed through many different
kinds of jewelry according to the skill of the goldsmith. And so he is proved
to possess no virtue perfectly, who is known to have broken down in some part of
them. For how can we believe that that man has extinguished the burning heats
of concupiscence (which are kindled not only by bodily incitement but by vice
of the mind), who could not assuage the sharp stings of anger which break out
from intemperance of heart alone? Or how can we think that he has repressed the
wanton desires of the flesh and spirit, who has not been able to conquer the
simple fault of pride? Or how can we believe that one has trampled under foot a
wantonness which is ingrained in the flesh, who has not been able to disown the
love of money, which is something external and outside our own substance? In
what way will he triumph in the war of flesh and spirit, who has not been man
enough to cure the disease of dejection? However great a city may be protected by
the height of its walls and the strength of its closed gates, yet it is laid
waste by the giving up of one postern however small. For what difference does it
make whether a dangerous foe makes his way into the heart of the city over high
walls, and through the wide spaces of the gate, or through secret and narrow
passages?
CHAPTER XII.
That in our spiritual contest we ought to draw an example from the carnal
contests.
"ONE who strives. in the games is not crowned unless he has contended
lawfully."(2) One who wants to extinguish the natural desires of the flesh, should
first hasten to overcome those vices whose seat is outside our nature. For if
we desire to make trial of the force of the Apostle's saying, we ought first to
learn what are the laws and what the discipline of the world's contest, so that
finally by a comparison with these, we may be able to know what the blessed
Apostle meant to teach to us who are striving in a spiritual contest by this
illustration. For in these conflicts, which, as the same Apostle says, hold out "a
corruptible crown"(3) to the victors, this rule is kept, that he who aims at
preparing himself for the crown of glory, which is embellished with the privilege
of exemption, and who is anxious to enter the highest struggle in the contest,
should first in the Olympic and Pythian games give evidence of his abilities
as a youth, and his strength in its first beginnings; since in these the younger
men who want to practise this training are tested as to whether they deserve
or ought to be admitted to it, by the judgment both of the president of the
games and of the whole multitude. And when any one has been carefully tested, and
has first been proved to be stained by no infamy of life, and then has been
adjudged not ignoble through the yoke of slavery, and for this reason unworthy to
be admitted to this training and to the company of those who practise it, and
when thirdly he produces sufficient evidence of his ability and prowess and by
striving with the younger men and his own compeers has shown both his skill and
valour as a youth, and going forward from the contests of boys has been by the
scrutiny of the president permitted to mix with full-grown men and those of
approved experience, and has not only shown himself their equal in valour by
constant striving with them, but has also many a time carried off the prize of
victory among them, then at last he is allowed to approach the most illustrious
conflict of the games, permission to contend in which is granted to none but victors
and those who are decked with many crowns and prizes. If we understand this
illustration from a carnal contest, we ought by a comparison with it to know what
is the system and method of our spiritual conflict as well.
CHAPTER XIII.
That we cannot enter the battle of the inner man unless we have been set free
from the vice of gluttony.
WE also ought first to give evidence of our freedom from subjection to the
flesh. For "of whom a man is overcome, of the same is he the slave."(1) And
"every one that doeth sin slave of sin."(2)And when the scrutiny is the of the
president of the contest finds that we are stained by no infamy of disgraceful
lust, and when we are judged by him not to be slaves of the flesh, and ignoble
and unworthy of the Olympic struggle against our vices, then we shall be able to
enter the lists against our equals, that is the lusts of the flesh and the
motions and disturbances of the soul. For it is impossible for a full belly to make
trial of the combat of the inner man: nor is he worthy to be tried in harder
battles, who can be overcome in a slight skirmish.
CHAPTER XIV.
How gluttonous desires can be overcome.
FIRST then we must trample under foot gluttonous desires, and to this end
the mind must be reduced not only by fasting, but also by vigils, by reading,
and by frequent compunction of heart for those things in which perhaps it
recollects that it has been deceived or overcome, sighing at one time with horror at
sin, at another time inflamed with the desire of perfection and saintliness:
until it is fully occupied and possessed by such cares and meditations, and
recognizes the participation of food to be not so much a concession to pleasure, as
a burden laid upon it; and considers it to be rather a necessity for the body
than anything desirable for the soul. And, preserved by this zeal of mind and
continual compunction, we shall beat down the wantonness of the flesh (which
becomes more proud and haughty by being fomented with food) and its dangerous
incitement, and so by the copiousness of our tears and the weeping of our heart we
shall succeed in extinguishing the fiery furnace of our body, which is kindled
by the Babylonish king(3) who continually furnishes us with opportunities for
sin, and vices with which we burn more fiercely, instead of naphtha and
pitch--until, through the grace of God, instilled like dew by His Spirit in our hearts,
the heats of fleshly lusts can be altogether deadened. This then is our first
contest, this is as it were our first trial in the Olympic games, to extinguish
the desires of the palate and the belly by the longing for perfection. On which
account we must not only trample down all unnecessary desire for food by the
contemplation of the virtues, but also must take what is necessary for the
support of nature, not without anxiety of heart, as if it were opposed to chastity.
And so at length we may enter on the course of our life, so that there may be
no time in which we feel that we are recalled from our spiritual studies,
further than when we are obliged by the weakness of the body to descend for the
needful care of it. And when we are subjected to this necessity--of attending to
the wants of life rather than the desires, of the soul--we should hasten to
withdraw as quickly as possible from it, as if it kept us back from really
health-giving studies. For we cannot possibly scorn the gratification of food presented
to us, unless the mind is fixed on the contemplation of divine things, and is
the rather entranced with the love of virtue and the delight of things
celestial. And so a man will despise all things present as transitory, when he has
securely fixed his mental gaze on, those things which are immovable and eternal, and
already contemplates in heart--though still in the flesh--the blessedness of
his future life.
CHAPTER XV.
How a monk must always be eager to preserve his purity of heart.
IT is like the case when one endeavours to strike some mighty prize of
virtue on high. pointed out by some very small mark; with the keenest eyesight he
points the aim of his dart, knowing that large rewards of glory and prizes
depend on his hitting it; and he turns away his gaze from every other
consideration, and must direct it thither, where he sees that the reward and prize is
placed, because he would be sure to lose the prize of his skill and the reward of his
prowess if the keenness of his gaze should be diverted ever so little.(1)
CHAPTER XVI.
How, after the fashion of the Olympic games, a monk should not attempt
spiritual conflicts unless he has won battles over the flesh.
AND so when the desires of the belly and of the palate have been by these
considerations overcome, and when we have been declared, as in the Olympic
contests, neither slaves of the flesh nor infamous through the brand of sin, we
shall be adjudged to be worthy of the contest in higher struggles as well, and,
leaving behind lessons of this kind, may be believed capable of entering the
lists against spiritual wickednesses, against which only victors and those who are
allowed to contend in a spiritual conflict are deemed worthy to struggle. For
this is so to speak a most solid foundation of all the conflicts, viz.: that in
the first instance the impulses of carnal desires should be destroyed. For no
one can lawfully strive unless his own flesh has been overcome. And one who does
not strive lawfully certainly cannot take a share in the contest, nor win a
crown of glory and the grace of victory. But if we have been overcome in this
battle, having been proved as it were slaves of carnal lusts, and thus displaying
the tokens neither of freedom nor of strength, we shall be straightway repulsed
from the conflicts with spiritual hosts, as unworthy and as slaves, with every
mark of confusion. For "every one that doeth sin is the servant of sin."(2)
And this will be addressed to us by the blessed Apostle, together with those
among whom fornication is named. "Temptation does not overtake you, except such as
is human."(3) For if we do not seek for strength of mind(4) we shall not
deserve to make trial of severer contest against wickedness on high, if we have been
unable to subdue our weak flesh which resists the spirit. And some not
understanding this testimony of the Apostle, have read the subjunctive instead of the
indicative mood, i.e. , "Let no temptation overcome you, except such as is
human."(5) But it is clear that it is rather said by him with the meaning not of a
wish but of a declaration or rebuke.
CHAPTER XVII.
That the foundation and basis of the spiritual combat must be laid in the
struggle against gluttony.
WOULD YOU like to hear a true athlete of Christ striving according to the
rules and laws of the conflict? "I," said he, "so run, not as uncertainly; I so
fight, not as one that beateth the air: but I chastise my body and bring it
into subjection, lest by any means when I have preached to others I myself should
be a castaway."(6) You see how he made the chief part of the struggle depend
upon himself, that is upon his flesh, as if on a most sure foundation, and
placed the result of the battle simply in the chastisement of the flesh and the
subjection of his body. "I then so run not as uncertainly." He does not run
uncertainly, because,(7) looking to the heavenly Jerusalem, he has a mark set, towards
which his heart is swiftly directed without swerving. He does not run
uncertainly, because, "forgetting those things which are behind, he reaches forth to
those that are before, pressing towards the mark for the prize of the high
calling of God in Christ Jesus,"(8) whither he ever directs his mental gaze, and
hastening towards it with all speed(9) of heart, proclaims with confidence, "I have
fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith."(1) And
because he knows he has run unweariedly "after the odour of the ointment" a of
Christ with ready devotion of heart, and has won the battle of the spiritual
combat by the chastisement of the flesh, he boldly concludes and says,
"Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the
righteous judge, will give to me in that day." And that e might open up to us also a
like hope of reward, if we desire to imitate him in the struggle of his course,
he added: "But not to me only, but to all also who love His coming;"(3)
declaring that we shall be sharers of his crown in the day of judgment, if we love
the coming of Christ--not that one only which will be manifest to men even
against their will; but also this one which daily comes to pass in holy souls--and
if we gain the victory in the fight by chastising the body. And of this coming
it is that the Lord speaks in the Gospel. "I," says He, "and my Father will come
to him, and will make our abode with him."(4) And again: "Behold, I stand at
the door and knock: if any man hear my voice and open the gate, I will come in
to him and will sup with him, and he with me."(5)
CHAPTER XVIII.
Of the number of different conflicts and victories through which the blessed
Apostle ascended to the crown of the highest.
BUT he does not mean that he has only finished the contest of a race when
he says "I so run, not as uncertainly" (a phrase which has more particularly to
do with the intention of the mind and fervour of his spirit, in which he
followed Christ with all zeal, crying out with the Bride, "We will run after thee
for the odour of thine ointments;"(6) and again, "My soul cleaveth unto thee:"(7)
but he also testifies that he has conquered in another kind of contest,
saying, "So fight I, not as one that beateth the air, but I chastise my body and
bring it into subjection." And this properly has to do with the pains of
abstinence, and bodily fasting and affliction of the flesh: as he means by this that he
is a vigorous bruiser of his own flesh, and points out that not in vain has he
planted his blows of Continence against it; but that he has gained a battle
triumph by mortifying his own body; for when it is chastised with the blows of
continence and struck down with the boxing-gloves of fasting, he has secured for
his victorious spirit the crown of immortality and the prize of incorruption. You
see the orthodox method of the contest, and consider the issue of spiritual
combats: how the athlete of Christ having gained a victory over the rebellious
flesh, having cast it as it were under his feet, is carried forward as triumphing
on high. And therefore "he does not run uncertainly," because he trusts that
he will forthwith enter the holy city, the heavenly Jerusalem. He "so fights,"
that is with fasts and humiliation of the flesh, "not as one that beateth the
air," that is, striking into space with blows of continence, through which he
struck not the empty air, but those spirits who inhabit it, by the chastisement of
his body. For one who says "not as one that beateth the air," shows that he
strikes--not empty and void air, but certain beings in the air. And because he
had overcome in this kind of contest, and marched on enriched with the rewards of
many crowns, not undeservedly does he begin to enter the lists against still
more powerful foes, and having triumphed over his former rivals, he boldly makes
proclamation and says, "Now our striving is not against flesh and blood, but
against principalities, against powers, against world-rulers of this darkness,
against spiritual wickedness in heavenly places."(8)
CHAPTER XIX.
That the athlete of Christ, so long as he is in the body, is never without a
battle.
THE athlete of Christ, as long as he is in the body, is never in want of a
victory to be gained in contests: but in proportion as he grows by triumphant
successes, so does a severer kind of struggle confront him. For when the flesh
is subdued and conquered, what swarms of foes, what hosts of enemies are
incited by his triumphs and rise up against the victorious soldier of Christ! for
fear lest in the ease of peace the soldier of Christ might relax his efforts and
begin to forget the glorious struggles of his contests, and be rendered slack
through the idleness which is caused by immunity from danger, and be cheated of
the reward of his prizes and the recompense of his triumphs. And so if we want
to rise with ever-growing virtue to these stages of triumph we ought also in the
same way to enter the lists of battle and begin by saying with the Apostle: "I
so fight, not as one that beateth the air, but I chastise my body and bring it
into subjection,"(1) that when this conflict is ended we may once more be able
to say with him: "we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against
principalities, against powers, against world-rulers of this darkness, against
spiritual wickedness in heavenly places."(2) For otherwise we cannot possibly join
battle with them nor deserve to make trial of spiritual combats if we are baffled
in a carnal contest, and smitten down in a struggle with the belly: and
deservedly will it be said of us by the Apostle in the language of blame: "Temptation
does not overtake you, except what is common to man."(3)
CHAPTER XX.
How a monk should not overstep the proper hours for taking food, if he wants
to proceed to the struggle of interior conflicts.
A MONK therefore who wants to proceed to the struggle of interior
conflicts should lay down this as a precaution for himself to begin with: viz.: that he
will not in any case allow himself to be overcome by any delicacies, or take
anything to eat or drink before the fast(4) is over and the proper hour for
refreshment has come, outside meal times;(5) nor, when the meal is over, will he
allow himself to take a morsel however small; and likewise that he will observe
the canonical time and measure of sleep. For that self-indulgence must be cut
off in the same way that the sin of unchastity has to be rooted out. For if a
man is unable to check the unnecessary desires of the appetite how will he be
able to extinguish the fire of carnal lust? And if a man is not able to control
passions, which are openly manifest and are but small, how will he be able with
temperate discretion to fight against those which are secret, and excite him,
when none are there to see? And therefore strength of mind is tested in separate
impulses and in any sort of passion: and if it is overcome in the case of very
small and manifest desires, how it will endure in those that are really great
and powerful and hidden, each man's conscience must witness for himself.
CHAPTER XXI.
Of the inward peace of a monk, and of spiritual abstinence;
For it is not an external enemy whom we have to dread. Our foe is shut up
within ourselves: an internal warfare is daily waged by us: and if we are
victorious in this, all external things will be made weak, and everything will be
made peaceful and subdued for the soldier of Christ. We shall have no external
enemy to fear, if what is within is overcome and subdued to the spirit. And let
us not believe that that external fast from visible food alone can possibly be
sufficient for perfection of heart and purity of body unless with it there has
also been united a fast of the soul. For the soul also has its foods which are
harmful, fattened on which, even without superfluity of meats, it is involved in
a downfall of wantonness. Slander is its food, and indeed one that is very
dear to it. A burst of anger also is its food, even if it be a very slight one;
yet supplying it with miserable food for an hour, and destroying it as well with
its deadly savour. Envy is a food of the mind, corrupting it with its poisonous
juices and never ceasing to make it wretched and miserable at the prosperity
and success of another. Kenodoxia, i.e., vainglory is its food, which gratifies
it with a delicious meal for a time; but afterwards strips it clear and bare of
all virtue, and dismisses it barren and void of all spiritual fruit, so that
it makes it not only lose the rewards of huge labours, but also makes it incur
heavier punishments. All lust and shifty wanderings of heart are a sort of food
for the soul, nourishing it on harmful meats, but leaving it afterwards without
share of the heavenly bread and of really solid food. If then, with all the
powers we have, we abstain from these in a most holy fast, our observance of the
bodily fast will be both useful and profitable. For labour of the flesh, when
joined with contrition of the spirit, will produce a sacrifice that is most
acceptable to God, and a worthy shrine of holiness in the pure and undefiled
inmost chambers of the heart. But if, while fasting as far as the body is concerned,
we are entangled in the most dangerous vices of the soul, our humiliation of
the flesh will do us no good whatever, while the most precious part of us is
defiled: since we go wrong through that substance by virtue of which we are made a
shrine of the Holy Ghost. For it is not so much the corruptible flesh as the
clean heart, which is made a shrine for God, and a temple of the Holy Ghost. We
ought therefore, whenever the outward man fasts, to restrain the inner man as
well from food which is bad for him: that inner man, namely, which the blessed
Apostle above all urges us to present pure before God, that it may be found
worthy to receive Christ as a guest within, saying "that in the inner man Christ
may dwell in your hearts through faith. "(1)
CHAPTER XXII.
That we should for this reason practise bodily abstinence that we may by it
attain to a spiritual fast.
AND So we know that we ought therefore to bestow attention on bodily
abstinence, that we may by this fasting attain to purity of heart. Otherwise our
labours will be spent in vain, if we endure this without weariness, in
contemplating the end, but are unable to reach the end for which we have endured such
trials; and it would have been better to have abstained from the forbidden foods of
the soul than to have fasted with the body from things indifferent and
harmless, for in the case of these latter there is a simple and harmless reception of
a creature of God, which in itself has nothing wrong about it: but in the case
of the former there is at the very first a dangerous tendency to devour the
brethren; of which it is said, "Do not love backbiting lest thou be rooted
out."(2) And concerning anger and jealousy the blessed Job says: "For anger slayeth a
fool, and envy killeth a child."(3) And at the same time it should be noticed
that he who is angered is set down as a fool; and he who is jealous, as a child.
For the former is not undeservedly considered a fool, since of his own accord
he brings death upon himself, being goaded by the stings of anger; and the
latter, while he is envious, proves that he is a child and a minor, for while he
envies another he shows that the one at whose prosperity he is vexed, is greater
than he.
CHAPTER XXIII.
What should be the character of the monk's food.
We should then choose for our food, not only that which moderates the heat
of burning lust, and avoids kindling it; but what is easily got ready, and
what is recommended by its cheapness, and is suitable to the life of the brethren
and their common use. For the nature of gluttony is threefold: first, there is
that which forces us to anticipate the proper hour for a meal, next that which
delights in stuffing the stomach, and gorging all kinds of food; thirdly, that
which takes pleasure in more refined and delicate feasting. And so against it a
monk should observe a threefold watch: first, he should wait till the proper
time for breaking the fast; secondly, he should not give way to gorging;
thirdly, he should be contented with any of the commoner sorts of food. For anything
that is taken over and above what is customary and the common use of all, is
branded by the ancient tradition of the fathers as defiled with the sin of vanity
and glorying and ostentation. Nor of those whom we have seen to be deservedly
eminent for learning and discretion, or whom the grace of Christ has singled
out as shining lights for every one to imitate, have we known any who have
abstained from eating bread which is accounted cheap and easily to be obtained among
them; nor have we seen that any one who has rejected this rule and given up
the use of bread and taken to a diet of beans or herbs or fruits, has been
reckoned among the most esteemed, or even acquired the grace of knowledge and
discretion. For not only do they lay it down that a monk ought not to ask for foods
which are not customary for others, lest his mode of life should be exposed
publicly to all and rendered vain and idle and so be destroyed by the disease of
vanity; but they insist that the common chastening discipline of fasts ought not
lightly to be disclosed to any one, but as far as possible concealed and kept
secret. But when any of the brethren arrive they rule that we ought to show the
virtues of kindness and charity instead of observing a severe abstinence and
our strict daily rule: nor should we consider what our own wishes and profit or
the ardour of our desires may require, but set before us and gladly fulfil
whatever the refreshment of the guest, or his weakness may demand from us.
CHAPTER XXIV.
How in Egypt we saw that the daily fast was broken without scruple on our
arrival.
When we had come from the region of Syria and had sought the province of
Egypt, in our desire to learn the rules of the Eiders, we were astonished at the
alacrity of heart with which we were there received so that no rule forbidding
refreshment till the appointed hour of the fast was over was observed, such as
we had been brought up to observe in the monasteries of Palestine; but except
in the case of the regular days, Wednesdays and Fridays, wherever we went the
daily fast(1) was broken:(2) and when we asked why the daily fast was thus
ignored by them without scruple one of the eiders replied: "The opportunity for
fasting is always with me. But as I am going to conduct you on your way, I cannot
always keep you with me. And a fast, although it is useful and advisable, is yet
a free-will offering. But the exigencies of a command require the fulfilment
of a work of charity. And so receiving Christ in you I ought to refresh Him but
when I have sent you on your way I shall be able to balance the hospitality
offered for His sake by a stricter fast on my own account. For 'the children of
the bridegroom cannot fast while the bridegroom is with them:'(3) but when he has
departed, then they will rightly fast."
CHAPTER XXV.
Of the abstinence of one old man who took food six times so sparingly that he
was still hungry.
WHEN one of the elders was pressing me to eat a little more as I was
taking refreshment, and I said that I could not, he replied: "I have already laid my
table six times for different brethren who had arrived, and, pressing each of
them, I partook of food with him, and am still hungry, and do you, who now
partake of refreshment for the first time, say that you cannot eat any more?"
CHAPTER XXVI.
Of another old man, who never partook of food alone in his cell.
WE have seen another who lived alone, who declared that he had never
enjoyed food by himself alone, but that even if for five days running none of the
brethren came to his cell he constantly put off taking food until on Saturday or
Sunday he went to church for service and found some stranger whom he brought
home at once to his cell, and together with him partook of refreshment for the
body not so much by reason of his own needs, as for the sake of kindness and on
his brother's account. And so as they know that the daily fast is broken without
scruple on the arrival of brethren, when they leave, they compensate for the
refreshment which has been enjoyed on their account by a greater abstinence, and
sternly make up for the reception of even a very little food by a severer
chastisement not only as regards bread, but also by lessening their usual amount of
sleep.
CHAPTER XXVII.
What the two Abbots Paesius and John said of the fruits of their zeal.
WHEN the aged John, who was superior of a large monastery and of a
quantity of brethren, had come to visit the aged Paesius, who was living in a vast
desert, and had been asked of him as of a very old friend, what he had done in all
the forty years in which he had been separated from him and had scarcely ever
been disturbed in his solitude by the brethren: "Never," said he, "has the sun
seen me eating," "nor me angry," said the other.(4)
CHAPTER XXVIII.
The lesson and example which Abbot John when dying left to his disciples.
WHEN the same old man, as one who was readily going to depart to his own,
was lying at his last gasp, and the brethren were standing round, they implored
and intreated that he would leave them, as a sort of legacy, some special
charge by which they could attain to the height of perfection, the more easily from
the brevity of the charge: he sighed and said, "I never did my own will, nor
taught any one what I had not first done myself."
CHAPTER XXIX.
Of Abbot Machetes, who never slept during the spiritual conferences, but
always went to sleep during earthly tales.
WE knew an old man, Machetes by name, who lived at a distance from the
crowds of the brethren, and obtained by his daily prayers.this grace from the
Lord, that as often as a spiritual conference was held, whether by day or by night,
he never was at all overcome by sleep: but if any one tried to introduce a
word of detraction, or idle talk, he dropped off to sleep at once as if the poison
of slander could not possibly penetrate to pollute his ears.
CHAPTER XXX.
A saying of the same old man about not judging any one.
The same old man, when he was teaching us that no one ought to judge
another, remarked that there were three points on which he had charged and rebuked
the brethren, viz.: because some allowed their uvula to be cut off, or kept a
cloak in their cell, or blessed oil and gave it to those dwelling in the world
who asked for it: and he said that he had done all these things himself. For
having contracted some malady of the uvula, I wasted away, said he, for so long,
through its weakness, that at last I was driven by stress of the pain, and by the
persuasion of all the elders, to allow it to be cut off. And I was forced too
by reason of this illness, to keep a cloak. And I was also compelled to bless
oil and give it to those who prayed for it--a thing which I execrated above
everything, since that I thought that it proceeded from great presumption of
heart--when suddenly many who were living in the world surrounded me, so that I could
not possibly escape them in any other way, had they not extorted from me with
no small violence, and entreaties that I would lay my hand on a vessel offered
by them, and sign it with the sign of the cross: and so believing that they had
secured blessed oil, at last they let me go. And by these things I plainly
discovered that a monk was in the same case and entangled in the same faults for
which he had ventured to judge others. Each one therefore ought only to judge
himself, and to be on the watch, with care and circumspection in all things not
to judge the life and conduct of others in accordance with the Apostle's charge,
"But thou, why dost thou judge thy brother? to his own master he standeth or
falleth." And this: "Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye
judge, ye shall be judged."(1) For besides the reason of Which we have spoken,
it is for this cause also dangerous to judge concerning others because in
those matters in which we are offended--as we do not know the need or the reason
for which they are really acting either rightly in the sight of God, or at any
rate in a pardonable manner--we are found to have judged them rashly and in this
commit no light sin, by forming an opinion of our brethren different from what
we ought.
CHAPTER XXXI.
The same old man's rebuke when he saw how the brethren went to sleep during
the spiritual conferences, and woke up when some idle story was told.
The same old man made clear by this proof that it was the devil who
encouraged idle tales, and showed himself always as the enemy of spiritual
conferences. For when he was discoursing to some of the brethren on necessary matters and
spiritual things, and saw that they were weighed down with a sound slumber,
and could not drive away the weight of sleep from their eyes, he suddenly
introduced an idle tale. And when he saw that at once they woke up, delighted with it,
and pricked up their ears, he groaned and said, "Up till now we were speaking
of celestial things and all your eyes were overpowered with a sound slumber;
but as soon as an idle tale was introduced, we all woke up and shook off the
drowsiness of sleep which had overcome us. And from this therefore consider who is
the enemy of that spiritual conference, and who has shown himself the suggester
of that useless and carnal talk. For it is most evidently shown that it is he
who, rejoicing in evil, never ceases to encourage the latter and to oppose
the former."
CHAPTER XXXII.
Of the letters which were burnt without being read.
Nor do I think it less needful to relate this act of a brother who was
intent on purity of heart, and extremely anxious with regard to the contemplation
of things divine. When after an interval of fifteen years a large number of
letters had been brought to him from his father and mother and many friends in the
province of Pontus, he received the huge packet of letters, and turning over
the matter in his own mind for some time, "What thoughts," said he, "will the
reading of these suggest to me, which will incite me either to senseless joy or
to useless sadness! for how many days will they draw off the attention of my
heart from the contemplation I have set before me, by the recollection of those
who wrote them! How long will it take for the disturbance of mind thus created to
be calmed, and what an effort will it cost for that former state of
peacefulness to be restored, if the mind is once moved by the sympathy of the letters,
and by recalling the words and looks of those whom it has left for so long begins
once more in thought and spirit to revisit them, to dwell among them and to be
with them. And it will be of no use to have forsaken them in the body, if one
begins to look on them with the heart, and readmits and revives that memory
which on renouncing this world every one gave up, as if he were dead. Turning this
over in his mind, he determined not only not to read a single letter, but not
even to open the packet, for fear lest, at the sight of the names of the
writers, or on recalling their appearance, the purpose of his spirit might give way.
And so he threw it into the fire to be burnt, all tied up just as he had
received it, crying, "Away, O ye thoughts of my home, be ye burnt up, and try no
further to recall me to those things from which I have fled."
CHAPTER XXXIII.
Of the solution of a question which Abbot Theodore obtained by prayer.
WE knew also Abbot Theodore,(1) a man gifted with the utmost holiness and
with perfect knowledge not only in practical life, but also in understanding
the Scriptures, which he had not acquired so much by study and reading, or
worldly education, as by purity of heart alone: since he could with difficulty
understand and speak but a very few words of the Greek language. This man when he was
seeking an explanation of some most difficult question, continued without
ceasing for seven days and nights in prayer until he discovered by a revelation
from the Lord the solution of the question propounded.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
Of the saying of the same old man, through which he taught by what efforts a
monk can acquire a knowledge of the Scriptures.
This man therefore, when some of the brethren Were wondering at the
splendid light of his knowledge and were asking of him some meanings of Scripture,
said that a monk who wanted to acquire a knowledge of the Scriptures ought not to
spend his labour on the works of commentators, but rather to keep all the
efforts of his mind and intentions of his heart set on purifying himself from
carnal vices: for when these are driven out, at once the eyes of the heart, as if
the veil of the passions were removed, will begin as it were naturally to gaze on
the mysteries(2) of Scripture: since they were not declared to us by the grace
of the Holy Spirit in order that they should remain unknown and obscure; but
they are rendered obscure by our fault, as the veil of our sins covers the eyes
of the heart, and when these are restored to their natural state of health, the
mere reading of Holy Scripture is by itself amply sufficient for beholding the
true knowledge, nor do they need the aid of commentators, just as these eyes
of flesh need no man's teaching how to see, provided that they are free from
dimness or the darkness of blindness. For this reason there have arisen so great
differences and mistakes among commentators because most of them, paying no sort
of attention towards purifying the mind, rush into the work of interpreting
the Scriptures, and in proportion to the density or impurity of their heart form
opinions that are at variance with and contrary to each other's and to the
faith, and so are unable to take in the light of truth.
CHAPTER. XXXV.
A rebuke of the same old man, when he had come to my cell in the middle of the
night.
The same Theodore came unexpectedly to my cell in the dead of night, with
paternal inquisitiveness seeking what I--an unformed anchorite as I was--might
be doing by myself; and when he had found me there already, as I had finished
my vesper office, beginning to refresh my wearied body, and lying down on a mat,
he sighed from the bottom of his heart, and calling me by name, said, "How
many, O John, are at this hour communing with God, and embracing Him, and
detaining Him with them, while you are deprived of so great light, enfeebled as you are
with lazy sleep!"
And since the virtues of the fathers and the grace given to them have
tempted us to turn aside to a story like this, I think it well to record in this
volume a noteworthy deed of charity, which we experienced from the kindness of
that most excellent man Archebius, that the purity of continence grafted on to a
work of charity may more readily shine forth, being embellished with a pleasing
variety. For the duty of fasting is then rendered acceptable to God, when it
is made perfect by the fruits of charity.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
A description of the desert in Diolcos, where the anchorites live.
And so when we had come, while still beginners, from the monasteries of
Palestine, to a city of Egypt called Diolcos,(1) and were contemplating a large
number of monks bound by the discipline of the Coenobium, and trained in that
excellent system of monasteries, which is also the earliest, we were also eager
to see with all wisdom of heart another system as well which is still better,
viz.: that of the anchorites, as we were incited thereto by the praises of it by
everybody. For these men, having first lived for a very long time in Coenobia,
and having diligently learnt all the rules of patience and discretion, and
acquired the virtues of humility and renunciation, and having perfectly overcome
all their faults, in order to engage in most fearful conflicts with devils,
penetrate the deepest recesses of the desert. Finding then that men of this sort
were living near the river Nile in a place which is surrounded on one side by the
same river, on the other by the expanse of the sea, and forms an island,
habitable by none but monks seeking such recesses, since the saltness of the soil and
dryness of the sand make it unfit for any cultivation--to these men, I say, we
eagerly hastened, and were beyond measure astonished at their labours which
they endure in the contemplation of the virtues and their love of solitude. For
they are hampered by such a scarcity even of water that the care and exactness
with which they portion it out is such as no miser would bestow in preserving
and hoarding the most precious kind of wine. For they carry it three miles or
even further from the bed of the above-mentioned river, for all necessary
purposes; and the distance, great as it is, with sandy mountains in between, is doubled
by the very great difficulty of the task.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
Of the cells which Abbot Archebius gave up to us with their furniture.
HAVING then seen this, as we were inflamed with the desire of imitating
them, the aforesaid Archebius, the most famous among them for the grace of
kindness, drew us into his cell, and having discovered our desire, pretended that he
wanted to leave the place, and to offer his cell to us, as if he were going
away, declaring that he would have done it, even if we had not come. And we,
inflamed with the desire of remaining there, and putting unhesitating faith in the
assertions of so great a man, willingly agreed to this, and took over his cell
with all its furniture and belongings. And so having succeeded in his pious
fraud, he left the place for a few days in which to procure the means for
constructing a cell, and after this returned, and with the utmost labour built another
cell for himself. And after some little time, when some other brethren came
inflamed with the same desire to stay there, he deceived them by a similar
charitable falsehood, and gave this one up with everything pertaining to it. But he,
unweariedly persevering in his act of charity, built for himself a third cell to
dwell in.(2)
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
The same Archebius paid a debt of his mother's by the labour of his own hands.
IT seems to me worth while to hand down another charitable act of the same
man, that the monks of our land may be taught by the example of one and the
same man to maintain not only a rigorous continence, but also the most unfeigned
affection of love. For he, sprung from no ignoble family, while yet a child,
scorning the love of this world and of his kinsfolk, fled to the monastery which
is nearly four miles distant from the aforementioned town, where he so passed
all his life, that never once throughout the whole of fifty years did he enter
or see the village from which he had come, nor even look upon the face of any
woman, not even his own mother. In the mean while his father was overtaken by
death, and left a debt of a hundred solidi. And though he himself was entirely
free from all annoyances, since he had been disinherited of all his father's
property, yet he found that his mother was excessively annoyed by the creditors.
Then he through consideration of duty somewhat moderated that gospel severity
through which formerly, while his parents were prosperous, he did not recognize
that he possessed a father or mother on earth; and acknowledged that he had a
mother, and hastened to relieve her in her distress, without relaxing anything of
the austerity he had set himself. For remaining within the cloister of the
monastery he asked that the task of his usual work might be trebled. And there for
a whole year toiling night and day alike he paid to the creditors the due
measure of the debt secured by his toil and labour, and relieved his mother from all
annoyance and anxiety; ridding her of the burden of the debt in such a way as
not to suffer aught of the severity he had set himself to be diminished on plea
of duteous necessity. Thus did he preserve his wonted austerities, without
ever denying to his mother's heart the work which duty demanded, as, though he had
formerly disregarded her for the love of Christ, he now acknowledged her again
out of consideration of duty.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
Of the device of a certain old man by which some work was found for Abbot
Simeon when be had nothing to do.
When a brother who was very dear to us, Simeon by name, a man utterly
ignorant of Greek, had come from the region of Italy, one of the elders, anxious to
show to him, as he was a stranger, a work of charity, with some pretence of
the benefit being mutual, asked him why he sat doing nothing in his cell,
guessing from this that he would not be able to stay much longer in it both because of
the roving thoughts which idleness produces and because, of his want of the
necessities of life; well knowing that no one can endure the assault: made in
solitude, but one who is contented to procure food for himself by the labour of
his hands. And when the other replied that he could not do or manage any of the
things which were usually done by the brethren there, except write a good hand,
if any one in Egypt wanted a Latin book for his use, then he at length seized
the opportunity to secure the long wished for work of charity, under colour of
its being a mutual benefit; and said, "From God this opportunity comes, for I
was just looking for some one to write out for me the Epistles(1) in Latin; for I
have a brother who is bound in the chains of military service, and is a good
Latin scholar, to whom I want to send something from Scripture for him to read
for his edification." And so when Simeon gratefully took this as an opportunity
offered to him by God, the old man also gladly seized the pretext, under colour
of which he could freely carry out his work of charity, and at once not only
brought him as a matter of business everything he could want for a whole year,
but also conveyed to him parchment and everything requisite for writing, and
received afterwards the manuscript, which was not of the slightest use (since in
those parts they were all utterly ignorant of this language), and did no good to
anybody except that which resulted from this device and large outlay, as the
one, without shame or confusion, procured his necessary food and sustenance by
the reward of his work and labour, and the other carried out his kindness and
bounty as it were by the compulsion of a debt: securing for himself a more
abundant reward proportioned to the zeal with which he procured for his foreign
brother not only his necessary food, but materials for writing, and an opportunity
of work.
CHAPTER XL.
Of the boys who when bringing to a sick man some figs, died in the desert
from hunger, without having tasted them.
But since in the section in which we proposed to say something about the
strictness of fasting and abstinence, kindly acts and deeds of charity seem to
have been intermingled, again returning to our design we will insert in this
little book a noteworthy deed of some who were boys in years though not in their
feelings. For when, to their great surprise, some one had brought to Abbot John,
the steward in the desert of Scete, some figs from Libya Mareotis,(2) as being
a thing never before seen in those districts,--(John) who had the management
of the church in the days of the blessed Presbyter Paphnutius,(3) by whom it had
been intrusted to him, at once sent them by the hands of two lads to an old
man who was laid up in ill health in the further parts of the desert, and who
lived about eighteen miles from the church. And when they had received the fruit,
and set off for the cell of the above-mentioned old man, they lost the right
path altogether--a thing which there easily happens even to elders--as a thick
fog suddenly came on. And when all day and night they had wandered about the
trackless waste of the desert, and could not possibly find the sick man's cell,
worn out at last both by weariness from their journey, and from hunger and thirst,
they bent their knees and gave up their souls to God in the very act of
prayer. And afterwards, when they had been for a long while sought for by the marks
of their footsteps which in those sandy regions are impressed as if on snow,
until a thin coating of sand blown about even by a slight breeze covers them up
again, it was found that they had preserved the figs untouched, just as they had
received them; choosing rather to give up their lives, than their fidelity to
their charge, and to lose their life on earth than to violate the commands of
their senior.
CHAPTER XLI.
The saying of Abbot Macarius of the behaviour of a monk as one who was to live
for a long while, and as one who was daily at the point of death.
THERE iS still one valuable charge of the blessed Macarius to be brought
forward by us, so that a saying of so great a man may close this book of fasts
and abstinence. He said then that a monk ought to bestow attention on his fasts,
just as if he were going to remain in the flesh for a hundred years; and to
curb the motions of the soul, and to forget injuries, and to loathe sadness, and
despise sorrows and losses, as if he were daily at the point of death. For in
the former case discretion is useful and proper as it causes a monk always to
walk with well-balanced care, and does not suffer him by reason of a weakened
body to fall from the heights over most dangerous precipices: in the other
high-mindedness is most valuable as it will enable him not only to despise the seeming
prosperity of this present world, but also not to be crushed by adversity and
sorrow, and to despise them as small and paltry matters, since he has the gaze
of his mind continually fixed there, whither daily at each moment he believes
that he is soon to be summoned.(1)